


Driving to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

by FootlessData507



Series: Tremendously Stupid Writing Club Prompts [1]
Category: My Date with the President's Daughter
Genre: First In The Fandom, Gen, Humor, Writing Prompt, totally 90s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FootlessData507/pseuds/FootlessData507
Summary: I had a writing prompt to rewrite the scene where the main character drives to the White House. I went with it. Is this seriously the only fanfic in this fandom on this site? Like, radical, dude!





	Driving to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago my writing group had a prompt where we each rewrote the same scene from this movie. The idea of the exercise was that at the end, everyone submitted them anonymously and we saw if we could tell who wrote what. This got pegged as mine immediately. You can decide for yourself if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
> 
> At the time of posting, this appears to be the only fanfic for this fandom on this site. FIRST!

            _Spider woman in the front seat, screamin’ ‘Go, go go,’_

_He’s ridin’ the accelerator down to the floor with his fuzzy little toe_

Duncan Fletcher howled along with his jam as he cruised along Pennsylvania Avenue.  He knew his dad would totally wig out when he discovered his car was missing, but Duncan was still feeling pretty good about his decision to jack his dad’s company car without permission.  These wheels were so choice! Like he was really going to pick up a totally slammin’ blonde like Hallie in the old station wagon!  As if!  When she saw him drive up in this cool, red BMW blasting the tunes of _The Presidents of the United States of America_ from his ride’s built in compact disc player (radical!), she was going to think he was the bomb.

            And she would be right.

            He brushed back his long, caramel-colored tresses and popped a stick of Bubble Beeper bubble gum in his mouth.

            Hitting a red light, he pulled out a rumpled piece of paper and studied it in the dim cyan light of his car’s _built in compact disc player_ —he still couldn’t get over that!  So sweet!

            “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue,” he read aloud, wondering why the address sounded so familiar.  It’s not as if he got in this direction very often—it was always a zoo of tourists and protesters—

            Speaking of protesters, one of them took the red light as an opportunity to bang his car.  She was chanting about war or families or the world wide web—whatever.  Duncan didn’t really keep up with politics.

            He cranked open his car window.  “Dude!” he yelled, “What are you, tweaked?  Hands off the car!  My dad’ll go postal if it gets dented.”

            Before she could respond, the light changed to green and Duncan vroomed ahead.

            1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue…

He slowed down. He must be getting close.  Then his headlights illuminated a sign on the fence—1600 Pennsylvania Avenue!

            He looked up at the house and…oh no.  His spirits as low as his score on his constitution exam, he realized that maybe Hallie didn’t think he was so dope after all.

            “Ha ha, Hallie,” he murmured.  “If you didn’t want to go to the dance with me, you could have just told me.  Giving me a fake address is just _so_ not dank.”

            He tossed the paper out of his car window and looked at the clock.  Huh.  If he went home now, he could still make it for most of the TGIF lineup.


End file.
